Once Upon A Time
by Misgiving Writer
Summary: The story leaves his mouth in a rush of pain and air, his entire life said in just a few words. Usopp likes to think that he's told only the truth, too, but he knows better. That ending? It is nothing but a lie.


A.N: I had a lot of fun writing this story, actually. It was fun to write and think up, and I think that it showed off quite a few of my skills. I would love to hear what others think of this story and the way it was written!

* * *

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She lived in a small kingdom and ruled with her father and her mother, all of whom were well loved by the people. Then, one day, the king and the queen went away on a journey - one that their princess could not go on.'

'The princess was so sad over her parents leaving that she fell ill. No one in the entire kingdom could cure her because no one could cheer her up. Eventually, consumed with their own failing lives, they forgot about her.'

'One day, a young peasent boy from the outer-rungs of the village was making his way through town. He was supposed to be buying food for his dinner but, in honesty, he didn't have the money. As he was walking along, trying to decide who he could make a deal with and what he could barter, he happened to see a lovely young lady looking outside of her window. She looked lonely, just like he was, and so he climbed up the nearest tree to talk to her.'

'Oh, the times that they had together. Every day, the peasent boy would climb up the tree and tell her a story. Every day, he was treated with her gentle laughter and kind smiles. He hadn't been looked at that way in a very, very long time and it made him happy.'

'It did not, however, make the princess's butler very happy. He was a nasty man and, whenever he saw the peasent boy in his tree, he would shout and threaten until he climbed down and left. Sometimes, the butler would even chase him. These times scared the peasent boy, though he would never admit it, because he was used to getting hurt when the other villagers chased him.'

'When the peasent boy was not spending time with his princess, he was out sitting by the sea. He liked to watch the ocean, you see, and alert the villagers should anyone dock at their tiny port. Most days, it was empty. One day, it wasn't. A grand pirate ship had landed! It's crew was small but they were strong - even the navigator, who the peasent boy thought wouldn't be a fighter, was strong.'

'Their captain was the strongest, though. He didn't look it, all long legs and big grins, that one, but he was. '

'The peasent boy was enthralled with their strength and determination - and he asked them for help. You see, just the day before he had discovered something. The princess's butler? He was really an evil pirate captain that was on the run from the Marines! And while the peasent boy liked to say that he was fearless and able to beat anyone, he knew that wasn't true.'

'The captain agreed and soon the small crew had defeated the evil butlers much bigger crew! Impressed, and assured by his now-happy princess, the peasent boy asked to join the pirate's crew. Monkey D. Luffy, future Pirate King, said yes. In just hours after the butlers defeat, they were gone from the island. Gone from the princess - but not before the peasent boy promised to return to her.'

'Quickly, the peasent boy discovered that this was a strange crew. But it was also a fun one and a loyal one. They travelled all across the world together.'

'Through strange jungles.'

'Vast deserts.'

'Snow-covered mountains.'

'Cities made up of water and canals.'

'Islands in the sky...'

'...and islands filled with the walking-dead.'

'They fought many people - including war-lords and other pirates.'

'Whenever one of Captain Luffy's crew was taken, be it by other sailors or the Marines, he stopped at nothing to get them back. Once, he even waged war with the World Government themselves to get back a member of his crew. At that time, the peasent boy was afraid but he had grown strong and did not back down. He stood beside his captain and his crew-mates and fired the shot that burned down the World Government's flag. He was the one who started a war - and he did not regret it.'

'On one island, far after they rescued their archiologist but not too long after they acquired their musician, the peasent boy and the chef were sent out to gather supplies. This wasn't unusual as the two often went to the market together.'

'They didn't know that this island had recently been over-taken by Marines.'

'They didn't know that the town was so far away from the docks, none of their crew would hear them call for help.'

'The chef didn't realize that, when he took off running, the peasent boy was unable to follow. Trapped and injured, he stood no chance against the platoon of Marines surrounding him. But he didn't give in and he kept fighting. Even when his Kabuto, his prize-weapon, was broken. Even when he felt like he could fight no more.'

'Eventually, he was captured.'

'Hand-cuffed.'

'Thrown into the hold of a Marine ship - with little more then a bowl of water and a loaf of bread.'

'Days passed before he saw anyone on the ship - but he recognized the familiar sway of the vessel and knew that they were moving far, far away from the island. He was not scared though, because the brave Captain Luffy always came to rescue his crew.'

'When the Marines asked him questions about his crew, the peasent boy said nothing. Just stared into their eyes, silently telling them that he refused to speak. The Marines left. They came back the next day.'

'And the day after.'

'And the day after that.'

'Every day for two weeks, the gaurds came into his cell and asked questions about his crew. Every day, the peasent boy lifted his chin in defiance and told them nothing.'

'One day, the head Marine aboard this ship came down to speak to him. He demanded answers to the questions and, when they weren't given, he grew angry. The peasent boy, though scared, still did not speak.'

'This went on for a very, very long time. To the point that the peasent boy was all but ready to give in and answer the questions - even though he knew that it was wrong and would only bring his crew, his make-shift family, harm.'

'On the day that he was going to give in, there was a great explosion and an even greater fight. His captain had come for him, just like the peasent boy prayed he would. They rescued the peasent boy and brought him back to their ship, where he was praised for his bravery and determination. Then the crew finished their quest, sailing all the way around the world and accomplishing their dreams.'

'In the end, the entire crew returned to the peasent boy's island. Only now, he wasn't just a peasent boy. He was a brave warrior of the sea - and the princess saw this and threw them all a grand feast. At this feast, the brave warrior asked her to be his wife. She said yes - and they lived happily ever after, for many years to come.'

'The end." Usopp whispers, throat far too raw for anything louder to come out. The words echo through the dank cell, bouncing off of the stone walls until they get lost in the empty dungeon that has become his home.

It's a story that he's been weaving since he was brought to this horrid place but today is the first time he's said it outloud. Or maybe tonight? This morning? Usopp isn't entirely sure. Time lost it's meaning a long time ago. There are no windows in this prison either, the only light coming from torches that never seem to go out.

Smacking his chapped and swollen lips together, a habit developed long ago, reminds him of how dry his mouth is. He sticks his tounge out and runs it across them - the sensation it brings vaguely reminding him of rubbing sand-paper across skin. There isn't enough saliva in his mouth to wet them, but the action manages to re-open his split lip. The blood that flows forth from the cut is enough to do the job that his mouth couldn't.

It isn't pleasent, far from it, but he has long since grown used to the taste of his own blood. Usopp takes what little pleasure he can from the event and lets his head fall backwards against the cool, stone wall.

Footsteps echo in the distance, but the sniper ignores them. Focuses on counting the lines in the cieling, _there are seven hundred and eighty-three on the roof of his cell_, and tries to ignore the pain that courses through his body. His arms have finally given up on their not-too-silent protest and are numb.

As the sound of feet hitting stone grows louder, Usopp is forced to recgonize the fact that they clearly belong to someone of importance. A general, perhaps? Maybe the captain. He hasn't been visited by a higher-up in a rather long time.

Something in the back of his mind, a barely there voice that sounds all-too much like Nami, tells him that they have gotten tired with his game. Keeping him alive has become a nuisance, Usopp decides, and they have come to get rid of him. It's the only thing that makes sense to him, in the twisted and shallow existance that has become his life.

"I'm such a liar, Kaya..." Usopp whispers, dark brown eyes never leaving the cieling. Even his own story, the one that he refused to lie when he told it, about his crew and the adventures that he's been on - even that was not the truth, it seems. His promise to return to Syrup Island was broken and, with it, his faith is lost.

Luffy is not coming for him. If he is, then he will arrive far too late.

The sniper closes his eyes, drawing comfort in the thick darkness that settles over him. It is better then the half-light, half-dark that haunts him in the waking world. Better than the shadows that dance on the wall and the leer that is on every Marines face.

Footsteps grow closer, louder.

The jingle of metal on metal is heard - keys.

A faint click as the lock to his cell is undone.

A clunk as it hits the floor.

Then more footsteps.

"Well, well, well, look how pretty you've gotten." The deep, raspy voice of the ships captain cuts through the silence. "Seems like my men have been doing a damn good job, eh?"

Silence, as though he's waiting for an answer. Usopp doesn't speak. Doesn't open his eyes. He can feel the displacement of the air before the strike comes though, and does his best to strangle the garbled noise that rises from his throat when something hard jabs him in his stomach. His best isn't good enough, a raw sounding whine slipping from between his lips.

He isn't entirely sure, but he thinks that he's started to bleed. Then again, he isn't really sure if he ever _stopped_ bleeding.

"Look at me when I speak!" The captain, Marcos, demands.

Hesitantly, painfully, Usopp's eyes flutter open. One is swollen to the point that he can see almost nothing out of it. The other stings, vision blurry, in a manner that is more than just a little unpleasent. The sniper thinks he can remember a whip striking him there in the past, but he isn't positive. It could have been a knife or a crop, all of which were frequent visitors to his cell.

Once both eyes are open as far as they can go, and they reajust to the dim lighting around him, Usopp can make out the blurry shape of Marcos. The Marine captain is wearing a pristine uniform, one that looks as though it was just ironed. Every button is in place. Every piece of metal gleaming. Not a speck of dust on the dark blue fabric. The bushy swath of black hair that rests above his upper lips looks as though it was just combed, the glint in his eyes that of someone who has finally gotten their way. In his left hand, he holds an up-turned spear.

_Oh,_ Usopp realizes, _that's what hit me_.

Just the butt of it, no doubt. It would have hurt worse, otherwise.

"There we go. Better, isn't it? Now that we can both see each other, it feels like we're having a more decent conversation." Marcos says, and it's clear to both of them that he cares nothing for decency. "I have just recieved news from my commanding officer on the main-land. If you don't tell us all that you know about the Straw Hat crew now, then I have been authorized to kill you."

Usopp gives a slow blink and smacks his blood-stained lips together once more. It looks like the voice was right. His usefullness has run out.

It looks like he was right too, in a way. His story was mostly made up of truths. The ending? That was a wish. Nothing more. Nothing less. Maybe, he can make it a lie? Take the ending and change it.

He's survived this long without saying a word about Luffy or the others. About his nakama - his crew-mates, his friends, his family. In his story, he almost told the Marines all he knew. Would have, if it weren't for the remarkable rescue.

Now, the sniper recognizes the time to lie.

"Fuck off." He rasps, words lacking any real threat. How can they, when he is beaten and broken? When his arms are pinned to the wall above him, shoulders pulled back and twisted up, long since dead to the pain the position first brought him? When his feet only reach the floor if he stretches and he has no strength left to even do that?

It's pathetic, and Usopp knows it. Still, he doesn't look away from the now enraged captain.

"You little bastard,' Marcos snarls, hefting the up-turned spear in his arms again. 'don't you dare speak to me like that!"

This time, when the butt of the spear slams itself into Usopp's shattered and bloodied knee, he cannot stop the howl that leaves his mouth. He cannot even try - all that he knows is pain and radiating heat and coursing agony.

"How do you like it now, boy?" Marcos demands. "Think you can still keep your mouth shut? We've been gentle with you up until now. I think it's time to get a little rough.

Gentle? The very thought that the torture he's gone through since he was captured on that little island sends a trill of fear through him. If that was gentle, then he cannot even begin to imagine what could be done to him now.

Still, he gives a slow shake of his head and repeats himself. "Fuck off."

In the next hour, it becomes a mantra.

Whenever he is asked a question, he uses it as his answer.

When his throat fails him, unable to do anything but scream incoherant noises, he thinks it.

When his mind becomes unable to comprehend anything but the fire-like pain that now radiates through him and the slick, crimson liquid that now coats both the spear and the Marine captain, he prays that it will end soon.

But he doesn't speak. Not once does he even come close to giving away the precious secrets that the Marines want. To telling them about his crew and his ship and their weaknesses.

He is Usopp. Brave warrior of the sea. Peasent boy. Liar. Artist. Sniper. Pirate. _Nakama_. He will not let them down. Not this time.

Even when Marcos lets out a noise of pure rage and raises the spear once again, sharp end foreward this time, Usopp doesn't say a word. He just stares at the man and lifts his chin ever so slightly, silently saying that he refuses to speak.

Then all he knows is utter misery.

Then all he knows is that he really is a liar.

Then all he knows is red.

Then all he _is_ is black.

* * *

"Where is he?" Luffy demands, voice stern and face serious.

In front of him, the captain of the _Iron Maiden_ seems to quail away. His face has gone pale and his eyes wide, a thin sheen of sweat spreading along his brow-line. Both hands are clutching Luffy's, which has a firm grip on the front of his now rumpled shirt, fingers tight around the pirate's tanned hand. No matter how much he pries, the grip doesn't loosen.

"I said,' Dark brown eyes narrow, and the rage that is seething there is something that none of the other crew-memebers have seen before. Not even when it was Robin that they were rescuing. 'where is he?"

For a moment, the silence is thick. Nami doesn't think that they'll get an answer from the Marine. Then the man lets go with one, trembling hand and points down one of the dark hallways.

"T-there..." Marcos murmurs, his terrified gaze never leaving that of the Straw-Hat captain. It scares him, knowing that this boy can hold so much anger. Knowing that he is the _cause_ of that anger - and that everyone present also knows this.

He hopes for mercy.

He hopes for the compassion that he did not give to his prisoner.

He hopes that this man will spare him.

He realizes quickly that he shouldn't hope.

With an angry sounding snarl, Luffy lets go of the mans shirt and _shoves_. When Marcos stumbles, he sweeps a leg out - and the man hits the hard stone ground, head making a sickening noise as it connects with the flooring. No noise comes from the Marine captain. No movement. No breath.

He is dead - and Luffy does not regret it.

Behind him, Nami covers her mouth with one hand and turns away. She knows that her captain has killed before, but she has never actually seen him do it. Though she doesn't pity the man now laying still before her, she does wonder if that was really the right choice to make.

Sanji puts a hand on the navigator's shoulder, a small comfort that only he can give, and then nods in the direction of the indicated hallway. Luffy's shadowed form is already moving through the darkness, hands curled into fists by his side.

_Our captain needs us_, his nod seems to say, _and so does Usopp_.

Nami knows that Sanji's right, even if she is still unsettled, even if she doesn't really want to see what's at the end of that passageway. Wordlessly, she holds a shaking hand out towards the blond chef, smiling when he closes his warm if slightly calloused one around it.

Hand in hand, mouths set in a thin line and eyes filled with hatred and anger and fear, they follow their captain.

It is a long passage, they quickly realize. One that is lit every few feet by a flickering torch and lined on both sides by cells. The first few, Nami peered in as they passed. She was witness to decaying corpses sprawled across the ground, shackles still firm around their wrists, blood-stained walls that seemed to appear just a little too often, and tools of torture the likes of which she had never seen before. The sights made her sick to her stomach, so she now walks with her head tilted down.

Sanji wishes that he could walk that way, too. The grotesque images that the cells, empty and filled, show him are enough to make his stomach churn and his heart freeze in his chest. But he keeps his eyes up, searching, just as his captain does in front of him.

Because Luffy can't be the first to see their sniper.

Because Luffy still thinks that their sniper is still alive.

Because that would be impossible - and it would just _break_ Luffy to know that they failed.

So he searches and tries to spot the captured man first. He realizes that he doesn't succeed when Luffy comes to a sudden stop. Sanji can practically _hear_ the younger mans heart stop. Or maybe that's his own heart that has just come to a crashing halt? Maybe it's his own erratic breath that he's hearing? It's definatly his own eyes tearing up, the hot liqued spilling over his lashes before he's even aware of it.

Luffy has stopped in front of a cell that the lights from the torches barely reach. In the flickering glow, the pool of scarlet around Luffy's feet seems surreal. The blood is splashed across the entire cell. Rust-colored stains that have long since dried smatter the walls. Fresh scarlet decorates the metal bars that line the front of the cell - and it is too much to have come out of one person, surely, too much for anyone to survive.

In the darkness, they cannot see the back of the prison. Only the blood-streaked front. Wordlessly, Nami plucks one of the torches from its bracket on the wall and walks to the front of her cage. It's all that she can do not to drop it.

The source of the blood is hanging from the back wall, hands twisted behind and above him, pinned to the wall with an unrelenting shackle. The sniper's body is limp, dirt and blood smeared over unnaturally pale skin. The torch-light casts flickering shadows on the prone mans form, high-light one wound and then another and another, until they are shown an almost disfiguring amount of wound.

Usopp is not moving.

Is not breathing.

Is not capable of _surviving something like that_.

Sanji's mind comes to a halt, his eyes focused solely on the younger man. Almost as though he's trying to avoid the massive stain of red on the long-nosed mans lower stomach, he hones in Usopp's face instead. Takes in the bruised and swollen face, the gash that spans one cheek and the burn mark on the other, the abhorrent mark that covers one eye. And he knows that this is his fault.

"Oh God..." Nami breathes, and her stuttered words seem to break the spell laying over them.

With slow, careful steps Luffy walks over to the sniper. He stretches and wraps his hand around the chain keeping Usopp in place and he pulls - hard enough that it snaps from the wall and comes crashing down, pulling Usopp with it. It takes no effort for the captain to catch his sniper, who seems so light and weak in his grasp.

For a moment, Luffy just stands there and holds Usopp close to him. Then he steels himself, ignoring the ache in his chest, and turns around. Holding him out towards Sanji, he offers only one command. "Take him to Chopper."

Numbly, Sanji reaches out and wraps his arms around the frail-looking man. One arm supports his shoulders, the other wraps itself under Usopp's knees, and he pulls the sniper flush against his chest.

"Luffy..." Nami says, voice soft and shaking. "Luffy, is he?"

She doesn't have to finish the question for her captain to answer. He shakes his head in response - and that is all that Sanji needs to know before he turns and takes off back down the hall. He ignores everything as he runs. Everything but the small, frail hope that the gaunt man he is holding might still make it. That they might not have failed him yet.

_Or_, a soft voice in his mind whispers,_ have you already failed him_?

Had they? Yes, Sanji decides. They have already failed Usopp.

Letting him be taken was a failure.

Letting him stay here for so long was a failure.

Letting this happen was a failure.

But this? Saving him? Sanji would not fail at this. Not now. Not when so much depends on him.

So he runs faster, forcing his strides to be longer. Each step sends a burning pain up through his calves and into his thighs. Each gasped breath sends fire into his lungs. But seared into his minds-eye is a sight that keeps him going, a thought that makes this worth it.

Sanji isn't really even consciouscly aware of climbing the stairs that lead to the deck. He just knows that, suddenly, the sun is beating down on him and he can see Zolo near the edge of the Marine ship.

"Zolo!" Sanji shouts, and even that takes up energy. Energy that he needs if he plans on accomplishing this, on crossing the gap between the _Iron Maiden_ and the _Going Sunny_. "Boost me!"

To the swordsman's credit, he doesn't so much as blink. Just elbows the Marine he'd been tussling with over-board and spins around. One sword is stretched out away from and, when Sanji's foot is flat against the side of the blade, he heaves.

A long practiced manuver that sends the chef vaulting through the air. Squeezing his eyes shut, he does his best to curl himself around the already injured man. The action leaves him taking the full-force of the botched landing, his left shoulder hitting the ground first, the rest of him following.

Pain shoots through his shoulder. Black spots dance in front of his eyes, vision fading. Sanji cannot breath. He cannot move. He cannot call for help. But he hears Chopper's scream and knows that he's made it.

He hasn't failed Usopp this time.

The black seems like sweet relief.

* * *

_Once upon a time, there was a brave warrior of the sea. His name was Usopp - and he did what no man thought he could. He survived the Marines, even when all hope was lost. Even when his crew had all but given up on him. He survived and he defied them in a way that no one has in a very long time. Silently._

_Sometimes, people ask why that is such a big deal. Why it is such a surprise that Usopp, a man that seems to have an endless toleracne for pain, survived?_

_The answer is simple. He was missing for three months. When his crew finally found him, he was beaten. He was bloodied. He was bruised and dyeing. But he was not broken - not yet, not quite. _

_He is a survivor. And that is the best ending that a story can have. _

_But, some question, is it better to survive? Or is it better to die, to forget, to let go of the pain? _

_This, my dears, is a question that only he can decide. With his nakama by his side, always there, always watching._

_Forever a survivor, whether he wishes for that or not._

_The end._


End file.
